


Special K

by CatLovePower



Category: Leverage
Genre: Gen, Hurt Eliot Spencer, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Parker is awesome, Rescue, Season/Series 01, the team cares for their hitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-09 00:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8868730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatLovePower/pseuds/CatLovePower
Summary: Eliot does everything angrily, from cooking to fighting. When he is robbed of his ability to express anger, fear begins to seep in.Or, Eliot gets captured, and his team comes to the rescue.





	

When they retrieve Eliot, he looks half dead. He's tied to a chair in a locked room, which is not a problem for Parker, who drops from the ceiling in front of him, hanging upside down. He looks at her with glassy eyes, clearly out of it.

With light fingers, Parker barely touches his battered face, pushing back a tangled strand of hair. He looks terribly confused, and she's not sure he recognizes her.

Her feet touch the ground and she shushes Hardison, who is frantically asking for an update in her ear because he doesn't have visual.

*

Eliot hears footsteps and thinks they are coming back, but the door never opens. Instead, an angel appears in front of him, blond and feathery, floating in front of his face. She pecks him on the nose and says, “Found him!”

Eliot doesn’t know who the blond angel is talking to. Maybe he’s hallucinating again and he’s alone and hearing voices. Or maybe the angel is the crazy one. He wants to ask her what she’s doing here, but his voice doesn't cooperate. He utters a grunt with a question mark.

*

Parker kneels behind the chair to pick the cuffs. That's when she sees the track marks on his arms, small bruises everywhere a needle pricked the skin. It sends a shiver down her spine.

“Nate, he's been drugged!” she says, not too loud because she doesn't want to alert security.

 _“What kind of drug?”_ Nate asks, calm as ever.

“How should I know? The druggy kind...”

_“How does he look?”_

“Not good. Sweaty. Gross. Can't believe I kissed him.”

 _“You kissed him?”_ Hardison sputters in her ear.

“He's been here two days, Hardison, he deserved a kiss.”

_“Focus, kids, you don't have a lot of time.”_

“Right.”

*

Ketamine, they said it was ketamine. Special K. Cereals for horses.

He can't focus. The angel morphs into something else, someone he knows, but he can't get his brain to cooperate.

The cuffs click open and he tries to say thanks, but his mouth feels numb, like the rest of him.

*

The handcuffs open easily, and Parker is disappointed when Eliot makes no move to stand up or even try to rub his badly bruised wrists. His arms dangle limply and he sways on the chair, as if the cuffs were the only thing keeping him upright. He starts to pitch forward and she gets a handful of Eliot, who rests his head on her shoulder.

“Oof, heavy.”

_“What's happening?”_

“Eliot's broken,” comes the unhelpful answer.

_“Come again?”_

“Nothing I can't manage,” Parker said.

If Eliot is letting her girlhandle him, it can mean two things: he's not all here anymore, or he knows it's her and he trusts her. She hopes it's the latter. She really doesn't want a drugged Eliot to start lashing out in the vents.

 _“Can he climb?”_ Nate asks in her ear.

“Not happening,” she says, still holding him upright in the chair.

_“Can you get him out?”_

“Don’t worry, I got this. I brought a prototype.”

In less than a minute, she puts Eliot's arms in a harness, secures every strap. The line makes a zipping sound, taut with the hitter's dead weight. He hangs almost comically, his brow furrowing as he's trying to work out what's happening. The mechanical pulley does its job admirably, and Parker stuffs Eliot into the vent she came from, closing the panel behind them, leaving a locked, empty room.

*

The con was simple and maybe that's why it failed. Eliot was passing as a security consultant in a web development firm, in order to get access to confidential information. Why Eliot? Because Hardison was recovering from a broken leg he got while playing World of Warcraft – “How? Why?” Nate had sputtered, and the explanations from the hacker had been spotty at best. Parker couldn't act to save her life, and Sophie had already crossed paths with their mark.

Eliot didn't make any mistakes, but he got spotted nonetheless. They lost contact two days ago, when the hitter ditched his comm. The last they heard from him was an ominous, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

Nate tried to enter the building, but they tightened security overnight. So they had to worry about Eliot and about the deadline for their con. A new video game was going to be launched, and more people would risk epileptic seizures because of it. Destroying the company from the inside wouldn’t bring back their clients’ son, but it would certainly feel good. But Hardison didn’t have eyes on Eliot, no matter how hard he tried to locate him.

* 

By the time he's in the closed space of the vents, Eliot has finally figured out that the angel is Parker. He's lying on his side, feeling terribly useless. His ribs hurt, his face hurts, and the stuff they kept pumping into his veins makes him woozy and lightheaded. He shouldn't need rescuing, he thinks, trying to push the drugs out of his body using sheer willpower. Of course it doesn't work, but he may have looked as if he was having an aneurysm because Parker is cupping his face in her hands and telling him to breathe. That he can do.

Once he's calm enough, Parker explains that they have to carry on with the con. He wants to ask which one, because his memory is as fuzzy as the rest. He blinks purposefully, trying to convey his agreement to whatever they need to do.

He wishes he had a comm but he ditched the earbud a long time ago, when he got captured. And maybe Parker is psychic, because she turns his head slightly and gently inserts something in his ear. He can hear tinny voices which sound really far away.

*

They find a good rhythm, so to speak. Parker pushes and poor Eliot crawls as best he can – which is not really fast. She is painfully aware of the noise they're making, and the sluggishness of their progress. The window to wipe the servers is very short and they probably won't get another shot at it. Alone, she would have already done it by now.

She wants to speak, but nothing reassuring comes to mind. She's not used to Eliot needing reassuring. Nate has also fallen silent a while back; she just hopes they are not jamming their signal on top of everything.

She doesn't like being in charge. Well, not entirely true. But she doesn't like being responsible for someone else's life, it's usually Eliot's job. She can't even imagine how he must feel right now.

*

Someone is pushing him insistently, so he crawls forward, his body awkward and alien. He can see his own reflection on the shiny panels on either side – there is light coming from behind, friendly, not sure who. So he keeps crawling, and he wishes he could feel his fingers, or know what day it is.

An important thought is nagging his addled mind. Something he should tell someone about. Something urgent. The thought eludes him once he realizes he can't form coherent words anyways.

Then the pushing stops, and he just lays there, propped against a wall he doesn't really feel, exhausted and defeated. The light flickers, and he nearly gets a boot in the face when the blonde – Parker, his brain corrects – crawls over him.

She is whispering, and he hears voices again. He remembers the comm in his ear and tries to concentrate on the conversation, but there are too many voices and they are talking way too fast. He closes his eyes for a second and rests his head on the cold metal.

*

“Eliot's out, again.”

 _“Can you check for a pulse?”_ Sophie asks, and Parker wrinkles her nose. She prefers when Nate barks orders in her ear, Sophie’s voice is way too sweet.

“Why? He's breathing.”

_“Please?”_

“I don't want him to break my arm when he wakes up with my hand on his throat,” she explains, trying to sound reasonable instead of insensitive.

 _“Carry on with the con, we are looking into extraction routes,”_ Nate says, putting an end to the discussion.

Parker nods even though they can't see.

She installs her rig quickly, check her harness, then unscrews the plate to get to the room below them. She spares a second to look at Eliot's still frame, before diving into the servers’ room. Who doesn't secure the ventilation to their most guarded rooms? Those guys apparently...

She pushes Eliot out of her mind and follows Hardison's instructions. Disconnect the drives, drill holes in the metal casing, and put them in her bag. Connect the hard drive designed to upload a virus when they're gone. Easy.

Then she hears footsteps coming her way and she freezes.

*

The duct is undulating slightly all around him, so he closes his eyes shut. Then he realizes he needs to keep an eye out for possible threats - the nature of the threat eludes him, but it doesn't matter. The walls seem to be closing in, and he's not sure he's getting enough air. How can he not be sure if he's breathing properly? He shakes his head and it makes a hollow sound against the metal. Without his fighting skills and his wits he's just a shell. Hollow. Useless. A dead weight.

His vision swims and he feels a wave of nausea coming. That's how I die, he thinks, drowning in my own vomit because I'm too drugged to breathe.

There is a female voice in his ear, calm and insisting. He doesn't trust her – it's not the accent, it's something deeper, a memory. He knows that she can't be trusted. Even when she's telling him to calm down and stop making noise.

Another voice replaces the woman, and he jolts awake.

_“Eliot! You need to help Parker. Now!”_

More chatter in the background of his mind, and what sounds like a fight below. The voice is telling him to do something, and it's not the urgency of the clipped order that has him reacting, but some muddled notion that they are friends. He doesn't do friends. And yet...

He rolls then drops to the room below with the grace of an anvil, on top of a security guard. Harrison later showed him the video feed of the CCTV, because he doesn't even remember doing that.

*

Parker lets out an undignified yelp and kicks her assailant in the nuts. Two down, two to go. Eliot goes berserk, and she later swore his eyes were flashing red and he was foaming at the mouth.

He fights like a drunk, uncoordinated punches and unsteady feet. He looks deadly nonetheless. She is starting to wonder how she is going to drag him out after he passes out, because there is no way he stays up after such a fight. Oddly enough, she never doubts he will win the fight.

The last guard crashes into a server and Eliot leans on a shelf, breathing heavily. His hair is messy and wet, but she can see his eyes still shine. Maybe there is hope. Maybe Eliot is part cyborg and indestructible. She claps excitedly, and then hails Hardison.

 _“On it,”_ the hacker says. She imagines his long fingers flying over the keyboard keys as he checks the security cameras in the building.

She passes one of Eliot's arms around her neck and they stumble towards the door. Hardison reassures them that there is no one waiting for them in the corridor. And Parker believes him because he's the best and she trusts him, but also because there are a lot of unconscious men with zip ties around their wrists and ankles in the server room.

* 

Eliot is trying to follow, he really is, but he can't remember what they are doing there and he's not sure he'd win a second fight with security. His back feels wet and his head airy. He can't wait for them to get out so he can pass out for good. The thought is weird, not something he'd usually allow. Letting other people take care of him.

Parker bows down under his weight and it takes all her stubbornness to keep him upright.

Hardison keeps blabbering in his ear, something about impossible patterns and incredible security. If only he remembered where they are. For all he knows, they could be in the Pentagon, stealing government secrets. Parker would like that, he thought fondly.

She jolts him forward and he tries to keep up. His body is slowly waking up, and he feels as if he's been beaten black and blue for two days. It's probably what happened anyways.

“I...” he tries. He licks his lips and shakes his head. Parker is not stopping. “I didn't tell them anything.” That seems wrong somehow. He can't remember anything, so he adds, “I think.”

 _“Oh well, that's reassuring...”_ Hardison says. _“The virus should be effective soon.”_

And just on cue, all the lights go out in the corridor. A lone alarm blares somewhere far away, and they can hear panicked footsteps coming their way.

 _“Take a left,”_ Hardison orders, and they don't question him.

*

They find a closet, Eliot settles on a crate, and Parker turns on a flashlight. The hitter still looks half dead, but partially better than earlier. And he can speak!

Parker kneels in front of him and says, “You were awesome earlier! Not that I needed you or anything,” she adds with a smirk.

She doesn't ask him if he's okay because he's clearly not, and they don't have time anyway. He looks at her, eyes still unfocussed, and his Adam’s apple bobs as if words were hard to come up with.

“Thanks for coming back for me,” he whispers, his voice low and laced with contained pain.

Parker knows he would have been fine on his own, because he always was, no matter how horrifying his predicament, but that was what a team was for. Help, comfort, revenge.

 _“The virus worked,”_ Hardison says in their ear. _“You've got fifteen minutes to get out before they figure out they need to reboot the system.”_

When Parker moves closer to help him stand up, she sees the blood glistening on the back of his shirt, as dark as the fabric, only wetter. She doesn't say anything, but she makes sure not to jar his bad shoulder, and she hoists him back to his feet.

*

Sophie is the one driving the unmarked van waiting for them in an alleyway. Eliot still feels a jolt of distrust, but not has strong as before, now that he can think straight-ish. He remembers they are friends, even if they often butt heads.

He lets Parker open the side door and leans on the black car. He doesn't dare closing his eyes this time, because he's not sure he'd manage to open them again, and he's not sure they're out of danger yet. His whole body throbs in rhythm with his heart, and he can't hear Nate or Hardison anymore, only his blood rushing in his ears.

There are people talking about him, pushing him to the back of the car. He has to block the urge to buck and scramble away, but the voices are concerned and the hands careful, as if he might break.

With a sigh, he finally surrenders to the odd feeling of being manhandled without torture as an outcome. Hands check his back, voices freak out. He wants to say that it's okay, it's not that painful, but it comes out garbled once again. Adrenaline ran out a long time ago.

*

“What did they do to him?” Sophie laments as she drives to one of Hardison's safe houses.

Their HQ was closer, but Nate isn't sure they haven't been compromised. They have no idea what a web development firm willing to shoot and drug intruders can do once they are crossed, and Eliot's reassurance that he didn't talk isn't enough.

The flat is scarcely furnished, but the first aid kit – cupboard really – is stocked, and that's all that matters at the moment. 

*

When Eliot wakes up, he doesn't jump to his feet like he normally does after passing out, mostly because all he can see is Parker's face. Blond hair curtains her frowning face, as she watches him intently. He wonders how long she has been perched there, on the armrest of the sofa.

She smiles when she sees he has opened his eyes, and he's thankful that she doesn't bellow for the others to come. He has a killer headache, the worst hangover ever. He remembers video games, epileptic seizures and a con where he needed to swap some hard drives around. Something went wrong, obviously. He wonders if he had a seizure.

“You didn't have a seizure,” Nate says from across the room. 

Eliot suddenly worries if he said that aloud, and Parker confirms that he did. He makes a face and waits for the rest of the story.

“So what did they give you?” Nate asks. Eliot can't see him from the sofa but he knows he is smiling and concerned at the same time.

“Ketamine,” he says. He licks his lips and Parker provides a glass with a straw in record time.

“One hell of a drug,” Nate comments. “No wonder you forgot that bullet wound...”

So that's why his back hurts.

“Sophie stitched you up,” Parker reassures.

He can hear keyboard keys clicking somewhere in the background. Hardison is there too.

“It seemed counterproductive to interrogate someone with a drug that makes you amnesiac and impervious to pain. Hardison dug into their communications and found out they were waiting for instructions and just wanted to restrain you long enough,” Nate explains.

“Con worked? Everyone safe? “Eliot asks. He's too tired for full sentences at the moment.

“Yep,” Parker says, and she squeezes his uninjured shoulder.

He nearly goes back to sleep, despite the odd feeling of being out of place, cuddled as he is in a safe house he doesn't remember. He usually suffers alone and heals away from the team. But another question is still nagging him.

“Why did they have ketamine anyway?”

Parker's face scrunches up and she pouts.

“Games weren't the only deadly thing they tested there,” Nate says.

“And they didn't let me steals all the bunnies and the cats,” Parker whines.

He falls asleep before he can promise they'll go back and steal all the animals.

 


End file.
